No More Learning

The result proved the correctness of his
calculation; for this vessel, with the position of its sails reversed,
not only kept the centre of the stream, but also ran against the bridge
with such impetuosity that the enemy had not time to open it and was
actually burst asunder. But all these results were of no service to the
town, because the attempts were made at random and were supported by no
adequate force. A new fire-ship, equipped like the former, which had
succeeded so well, and which Gianibelli had filled with four thousand
pounds of the finest powder was not even used; for a new mode of
attempting their deliverance had now occurred to the people of Antwerp.

Terrified by so many futile attempts from endeavoring to clear a
passage for vessels on the river by force, they at last came to the
determination of doing without the stream entirely. They remembered the
example of the town of Leyden, which, when besieged by the Spaniards ten
years before, had saved itself by opportunely inundating the surrounding
country, and it was resolved to imitate this example. Between Lillo and
Stabroek, in the district of Bergen, a wide and somewhat sloping plain
extends as far as Antwerp, being protected by numerous embankments and
counter-embankments against the irruptions of the East Scheldt. Nothing
more was requisite than to break these dams, when the whole plain would
become a sea, navigable by flat-bottomed vessels almost to the very
walls of Antwerp. If this attempt should succeed, the Duke of Parma
might keep the Scheldt guarded with his bridge of boats as long as he
pleased; a new river would be formed, which, in case of necessity, would
be equally serviceable for the time. This was the very plan which the
Prince of Orange had at the commencement of the siege recommended, and
in which he had been strenuously, but unsuccessfully, seconded by St.
Aldegonde, because some of the citizens could not be persuaded to
sacrifice their own fields. In the present emergency they reverted to
this last resource, but circumstances in the meantime had greatly
changed.

The plain in question is intersected by a broad and high dam, which
takes its name from the adjacent Castle of Cowenstein, and extends for
three miles from the village of Stabroek, in Bergen, as far as the
Scheldt, with the great dam of which it unites near Ordam. Beyond this
dam no vessels can proceed, however high the tide, and the sea would be
vainly turned into the fields as long as such an embankment remained in
the way, which would prevent the Zealand vessels from descending into
the plain before Antwerp. The fate of the town would therefore depend
upon the demolition of this Cowenstein dam; but, foreseeing this, the
Prince of Parma had, immediately on commencing the blockade, taken
possession of it, and spared no pains to render it tenable to the last.
At the village of Stabroek, Count Mansfeld was encamped with the
greatest part of his army, and by means of this very Cowenstein dam kept
open the communication with the bridge, the headquarters, and the
Spanish magazines at Calloo. Thus the army formed an uninterrupted line
from Stabroek in Brabant, as far as Bevern in Flanders, intersected
indeed, but not broken by the Scheldt, and which could not be cut off
without a sanguinary conflict. On the dam itself within proper
distances five different batteries had been erected, the command of
which was given to the most valiant officers in the army. Nay, as the
Prince of Parma could not doubt that now the whole fury of the war would
be turned to this point, he entrusted the defence of the bridge to Count
Mansfeld, and resolved to defend this important post himself. The war,
therefore, now assumed a different aspect, and the theatre of it was
entirely changed.

Both above and below Lillo, the Netherlanders had in several places cut
through the dam, which follows the Brabant shore of the Scheldt; and
where a short time before had been green fields, a new element now
presented itself, studded with masts and boats. A Zealand fleet,
commanded by Count Hohenlohe, navigated the inundated fields, and made
repeated movements against the Cowenstein dam, without, however,
attempting a serious attack on it, while another fleet showed itself in
the Scheldt, threatening the two coasts alternately with a landing, and
occasionally the bridge of boats with an attack. For several days this
manoeuvre was practised on the enemy, who, uncertain of the quarter
whence an attack was to be expected, would, it was hoped, be exhausted
by continual watching, and by degrees lulled into security by so many
false alarms. Antwerp had promised Count Hohenlohe to support the
attack on the dam by a flotilla from the town; three beacons on the
principal tower were to be the signal that this was on the way. When,
therefore, on a dark night the expected columns of fire really ascended
above Antwerp, Count Hohenlohe immediately caused five hundred of his
troops to scale the dam between two of the enemy's redoubts, who
surprised part of the Spanish garrison asleep, and cut down the others
who attempted to defend themselves. In a short time they had gained a
firm footing upon the dam, and were just on the point of disembarking
the remainder of their force, two thousand in number, when the Spaniards
in the adjoining redoubts marched out and, favored by the narrowness of
the ground, made a desperate attack on the crowded Zealanders. The guns
from the neighboring batteries opened upon the approaching fleet, and
thus rendered the landing of the remaining troops impossible; and as
there were no signs of co-operation on the part of the city, the
Zealanders were overpowered after a short conflict and again driven down
from the dam. The victorious Spaniards pursued them through the water
as far as their boats, sunk many of the latter, and compelled the rest
to retreat with heavy loss. Count Hohenlohe threw the blame of this
defeat upon the inhabitants of Antwerp, who had deceived him by a false
signal, and it certainly must be attributed to the bad arrangement of
both parties that the attempt failed of better success.

But at last the allies determined to make a systematic assault on the
enemy with their combined force, and to put an end to the siege by a
grand attack as well on the dam as on the bridge. The 16th of May,
1585, was fixed upon for the execution of this design, and both armies
used their utmost endeavors to make this day decisive. The force of the
Hollanders and Zealanders, united to that of Antwerp, exceeded two
hundred ships, to man which they had stripped their towns and citadels,
and with this force they purposed to attack the Cowenstein dam on both
sides. The bridge over the Scheldt was to be assailed with new machines
of Gianibelli's invention, and the Duke of Parma thereby hindered from
assisting the defence of the dam.

Alexander, apprised of the danger which threatened him, spared nothing
on his side to meet it with energy. Immediately after getting
possession of the dam he had caused redoubts to be erected at five
different, places, and had given the command of them to the most
experienced officers of the army. The first of these, which was called
the Cross battery, was erected on the spot where the Cowenstein darn
enters the great embankment of the Scheldt, and makes with the latter
the form of a cross; the Spaniard, Mondragone, was appointed to the
command of this battery. A thousand paces farther on, near the castle
of Cowenstein, was posted the battery of St. James, which was entrusted
to the command of Camillo di Monte. At an equal distance from this lay
the battery of St. George, and at a thousand paces from the latter, the
Pile battery, under the command of Gamboa, so called from the pile-work
on which it rested; at the farthest end of the darn, near Stabroek, was
the fifth redoubt, where Count Mansfeld, with Capizuechi, an Italian,
commanded. All these forts the prince now strengthened with artillery
and men; on both sides of the dam, and along its whole extent, he caused
piles to be driven, as well to render the main embankment firmer, as to
impede the labor of the pioneers, who were to dig through it.

Early on the morning of the 16th of May the enemy's forces were in
motion. With the dusk of dawn there came floating down from Lillo, over
the inundated country, four burning vessels, which so alarmed the guards
upon the dams, who recollected the former terrible explosion, that they
hastily retreated to the next battery. This was exactly what the enemy
desired. In these vessels, which had merely the appearance of
fire-ships, soldiers were concealed, who now suddenly jumped ashore, and
succeeded in mounting the dam at the undefended spot, between the St.
George and Pile batteries. Immediately afterward the whole Zealand
fleet showed itself, consisting of numerous ships-of-war, transports,
and a crowd of smaller craft, which were laden with great sacks of
earth, wool, fascines, gabions, and the like, for throwing up
breastworks wherever necessary, The ships-of-war were furnished with
powerful artillery, and numerously and bravely manned, and a whole army
of pioneers accompanied it in order to dig through the dam as soon as it
should be in their possession.

The Zealanders had scarcely begun on their side to ascend the dam when
the fleet of Antwerp advanced from Osterweel and attacked it on the
other. A high breastwork was hastily thrown up between the two nearest
hostile batteries, so as at once to divide the two garrisons and to
cover the pioneers. The latter, several hundreds in number, now fell to
work with their spades on both sides of the dam, and dug with such
energy that hopes were entertained of soon seeing the two seas united.
But meanwhile the Spaniards also had gained time to hasten to the spot
from the two nearest redoubts, and make a spirited assault, while the
guns from the battery of St. George played incessantly on the enemy's
fleet. A furious battle now raged in the quarter where they were
cutting through the dike and throwing up the breastworks. The
Zealanders had drawn a strong line of troops round the pioneers to keep
the enemy from interrupting their work, and in this confusion of battle,
in the midst of a storm of bullets from the enemy, often up to the
breast in water, among the dead and dying, the pioneers pursued their
work, under the incessant exhortations of the merchants, who impatiently
waited to see the dam opened and their vessels in safety. The
importance of the result, which it might be said depended entirely upon
their spades, appeared to animate even the common laborers with heroic
courage. Solely intent upon their task, they neither saw nor heard the
work of death which was going on around them, and as fast as the
foremost ranks fell those behind them pressed into their places. Their
operations were greatly impeded by the piles which had been driven in,
but still more by the attacks of the Spaniards, who burst with desperate
courage through the thickest of the enemy, stabbed the pioneers in the
pits where they were digging, and filled up again with dead bodies the
cavities which the living had made. At last, however, when most of
their officers were killed or wounded, and the number of the enemy
constantly increasing, while fresh laborers were supplying the place of
those who had been slain, the courage of these valiant troops began to
give way, and they thought it advisable to retreat to their batteries.
Now, therefore, the confederates saw themselves masters of the whole
extent of the dam, from Fort St. George as far as the Pile battery. As,
however, it seemed too long to wait for the thorough demolition of the
dam, they hastily unloaded a Zealand transport, and brought the cargo
over the dam to a vessel of Antwerp, with which Count Hohenlohe sailed
in triumph to that city. The sight of the provisions at once filled the
inhabitants with joy, and as if the victory was already won, they gave
themselves up to the wildest exultation. The bells were rung, the
cannon discharged, and the inhabitants, transported by their unexpected
success, hurried to the Osterweel gate, to await the store-ships which
were supposed to be at hand.

In fact, fortune had never smiled so favorably on the besieged as at
that moment. The enemy, exhausted and dispirited, had thrown themselves
into their batteries, and, far from being able to struggle with the
victors for the post they had conquered, they found themselves rather
besieged in the places where they had taken refuge. Some companies of
Scots, led by their brave colonel, Balfour, attacked the battery of St.
George, which, however, was relieved, but not without severe loss, by
Camillo di Monte, who hastened thither from St. James' battery. The
Pile battery was in a much worse condition, it being hotly cannonaded by
the ships, and threatened every moment to crumble to pieces. Gainboa,
who commanded it, lay wounded, and it was unfortunately deficient in
artillery to keep the enemy at a distance. The breastwork, too, which
the Zealanders had thrown up between this battery and that of St.
George cut off all hope of assistance from the Scheldt. If, therefore,
the Belgians had only taken advantage of this weakness and inactivity of
the enemy to proceed with zeal and perseverance in cutting through the
dam, there is no doubt that a passage might have been made, and thus put
an end to the whole siege. But here also the same want of consistent
energy showed itself which had marked the conduct of the people of
Antwerp during the whole course of the siege. The zeal with which the
work had been commenced cooled in proportion to the success which
attended it. It was soon found too tedious to dig through the dyke; it
seemed far easier to transfer the cargoes from the large store-ships
into smaller ones, and carry these to the town with the flood tide. St.
Aldegonde and Hohenlohe, instead of remaining to animate the industry of
the workmen by their personal presence, left the scene of action at the
decisive moment, in order, by sailing to the town with a corn vessel, to
win encomiums on their wisdom and valor.

While both parties were fighting on the dam with the most obstinate fury
the bridge over the Scheldt had been attacked from Antwerp with new
machines, in order to give employment to the prince in that quarter.
But the sound of the firing soon apprised him of what was going on at
the dyke, and as soon as he saw the bridge clear he hastened to support
the defence of the dyke. Followed by two hundred Spanish pikemen, he
flew to the place of attack, and arrived just in time to prevent the
complete defeat of his troops. He hastily posted some guns which he had
brought with him in the two nearest redoubts, and maintained from thence
a heavy fire upon the enemy's ships. He placed himself at the head of
his men, and, with his sword in one hand and shield in the other, led
them against the enemy. The news of his arrival, which quickly spread
from one end of the dyke to the other, revived the drooping spirits of
his troops, and the conflict recommenced with renewed violence, made
still more murderous by the nature of the ground where it was fought.
Upon the narrow ridge of the dam, which in many places was not more than
nine paces broad, about five thousand combatants were fighting; so
confined was the spot upon which the strength of both armies was
assembled, and which was to decide the whole issue of the siege. With
the Antwerpers the last bulwark of their city was at stake; with the
Spaniards it was to determine the whole success of their undertaking.
Both parties fought with a courage which despair alone could inspire.
From both the extremities of the dam the tide of war rolled itself
towards the centre, where the Zealanders and Antwerpers had the
advantage, and where they had collected their whole strength. The
Italians and Spaniards, inflamed by a noble emulation, pressed on from
Stabroek; and from the Scheldt the Walloons and Spaniards advanced, with
their general at their head. While the former endeavored to relieve the
Pile battery, which was hotly pressed by the enemy, both by sea and
land, the latter threw themselves on the breastwork, between the St.
George and the Pile batteries, with a fury which carried everything
before it. Here the flower of the Belgian troops fought behind a
well-fortified rampart, and the guns of the two fleets covered this
important post. The prince was already pressing forward to attack this
formidable defence with his small army when he received intelligence that
the Italians and Spaniards, under Capizucchi and Aquila, had forced their
way, sword in hand, into the Pile battery, had got possession of it, and
were now likewise advancing from the other side against the enemy's
breastwork. Before this intrenchment, therefore, the whole force of both
armies was now collected, and both sides used their utmost efforts to
carry and to defend this position. The Netherlanders on board the fleet,
loath to remain idle spectators of the conflict, sprang ashore from their
vessels. Alexander attacked the breastwork on one side, Count Mansfeld on
the other; five assaults were made, and five times they were repulsed.
The Netherlanders in this decisive moment surpassed themselves; never in
the whole course of the war had they fought with such determination. But
it was the Scotch and English in particular who baffled the attempts of
the enemy by their valiant resistance. As no one would advance to the
attack in the quarter where the Scotch fought, the duke himself led on
the troops, with a javelin in his hand, and up to his breast in water. At
last, after a protracted struggle, the forces of Count Mansfeld succeeded
with their halberds and pikes in making a breach in the breastwork, and
by raising themselves on one another's shoulders scaled the parapet.
Barthelemy Toralva, a Spanish captain, was the first who showed himself
on the top; and almost at the same instant the Italian, Capizucchi,
appeared upon the edge of it; and thus the contest of valor was decided
with equal glory for both nations. It is worth while to notice here the
manner in which the Prince of Parma, who was made arbiter of this emulous
strife, encouraged this delicate sense of honor among his warriors. He
embraced the Italian, Capizucchi, in presence of the troops, and
acknowledged aloud that it was principally to the courage of this officer
that he owed the capture of the breastwork. He caused the Spanish
captain, Toralva, who was dangerously wounded, to be conveyed to his own
quarters at Stabroek, laid on his own bed, and covered with the cloak
which he himself had worn the day before the battle.

After the capture of the breastwork the victory no longer remained
doubtful. The Dutch and Zealand troops, who had disembarked to come to
close action with the enemy, at once lost their courage when they looked
about them and saw the vessels, which were their last refuge, putting
off from the shore.

For the tide had begun to ebb, and the commanders of the fleet, from
fear of being stranded with their heavy transports, and, in case of an
unfortunate issue to the engagement, becoming the prey of the enemy,
retired from the dam, and made for deep water. No sooner did Alexander
perceive this than he pointed out to his troops the flying vessels, and
encouraged them to finish the action with an enemy who already despaired
of their safety. The Dutch auxiliaries were the first that gave way,
and their example was soon followed by the Zealanders. Hastily leaping
from the dam they endeavored to reach the vessels by wading or swimming;
but from their disorderly flight they impeded one another, and fell in
heaps under the swords of the pursuers. Many perished even in the
boats, as each strove to get on board before the other, and several
vessels sank under the weight of the numbers who rushed into them. The
Antwerpers, who fought for their liberty, their hearths, their faith,
were the last who retreated, but this very circumstance augmented their
disaster. Many of their vessels were outstripped by the ebb-tide, and
grounded within reach of the enemy's cannon, and were consequently
destroyed with all on board. Crowds of fugitives endeavored by swimming
to gain the other transports, which had got into deep water; but such
was the rage and boldness of the Spaniards that they swam after them
with their swords between their teeth, and dragged many even from the
ships. The victory of the king's troops was complete but bloody; for of
the Spaniards about eight hundred, of the Netherlanders some thousands
(without reckoning those who were drowned), were left on the field, and
on both sides many of the principal nobility perished. More than thirty
vessels, with a large supply of provisions for Antwerp, fell into the
hands of the victors, with one hundred and fifty cannon and other
military stores. The dam, the possession of which had been so dearly
maintained, was pierced in thirteen different places, and the bodies of
those who had cut through it were now used to stop up the openings.

The following day a transport of immense size and singular construction
fell into the hands of the royalists. It formed a floating castle, and
had been destined for the attack on the Cowenstein dam. The people of
Antwerp had built it at an immense expense at the very time when the
engineer Gianibelli's useful proposals had been rejected on account of
the cost they entailed, and this ridiculous monster was called by the
proud title of "End of the War," which appellation was afterwards
changed for the more appropriate sobriquet of "Money lost! " When this
vessel was launched it turned out, as every sensible person had
foretold, that on account of its unwieldly size it was utterly
impossible to steer it, and it could hardly be floated by the highest
tide. With great difficulty it was worked as far as Ordain, where,
deserted by the tide, it went aground, and fell a prey to the enemy.

The attack upon the Cowenstein dam was the last attempt which was made
to relieve Antwerp. From this time the courage of the besieged sank,
and the magistracy of the town vainly labored to inspirit with distant
hopes the lower orders, on whom the present distress weighed heaviest.
Hitherto the price of bread had been kept down to a tolerable rate,
although the quality of it continued to deteriorate; by degrees,
however, provisions became so scarce that a famine was evidently near at
hand. Still hopes were entertained of being able to hold out, at least
until the corn between the town and the farthest batteries, which was
already in full ear, could be reaped; but before that could be done the
enemy had carried the last outwork, and had appropriated the whole
harvest to their use. At last the neighboring and confederate town of
Malines fell into the enemy's hands, and with its fall vanished the only
remaining hope of getting supplies from Brabant. As there was,
therefore, no longer any means of increasing the stock of provisions
nothing was left but to diminish the consumers. All useless persons,
all strangers, nay even the women and children were to be sent away out
of the town, but this proposal was too revolting to humanity to be
carried into execution. Another plan, that of expelling the Catholic
inhabitants, exasperated them so much that it had almost ended in open
mutiny. And thus St. Aldegonde at last saw himself compelled to yield
to the riotous clamors of the populace, and on the 17th of August, 1585,
to make overtures to the Duke of Parma for the surrender of the town.






THE GHOST-SEER; OR, APPARITIONIST.

AND

SPORT OF DESTINY




FROM THE PAPERS OF COUNT O-------

I am about to relate an adventure which to many will appear incredible,
but of which I was in great part an eye-witness. The few who are
acquainted with a certain political event will, if indeed these pages
should happen to find them alive, receive a welcome solution thereof.
And, even to the rest of my readers, it will be, perhaps, important as
a contribution to the history of the deception and aberrations of the
human intellect. The boldness of the schemes which malice is able to
contemplate and to carry out must excite astonishment, as must also the
means of which it can avail itself to accomplish its aims. Clear,
unvarnished truth shall guide my pen; for, when these pages come before
the public, I shall be no more, and shall therefore never learn their
fate.

On my return to Courland in the year 17--, about the time of the
Carnival, I visited the Prince of ------- at Venice. We had been
acquainted in the ------ service, and we here renewed an intimacy which,
by the restoration of peace, had been interrupted. As I wished to see
the curiosities of this city, and as the prince was waiting only for the
arrival of remittances to return to his native country, he easily
prevailed on me to tarry till his departure. We agreed not to separate
during the time of our residence at Venice, and the prince was kind
enough to accommodate me at his lodgings at the Moor Hotel.

As the prince wished to enjoy himself, and his small revenues did not
permit him to maintain the dignity of his rank, he lived at Venice in
the strictest incognito. Two noblemen, in whom he had entire
confidence, and a few faithful servants, composed all his retinue. He
shunned expenditure, more however from inclination than economy. He
avoided all kinds of dissipation, and up to the age of thirty-five years
had resisted the numerous allurements of this voluptuous city. To the
charms of the fair sex he was wholly indifferent. A settled gravity and
an enthusiastic melancholy were the prominent features of his character.
His affections were tranquil, but obstinate to excess. He formed his
attachments with caution and timidity, but when once formed they were
cordial and permanent. In the midst of a tumultuous crowd he walked in
solitude. Wrapped in his own visionary ideas, he was often a stranger
to the world about him; and, sensible of his own deficiency in the
knowledge of mankind, he scarcely ever ventured an opinion of his own,
and was apt to pay an unwarrantable deference to the judgment of others.
Though far from being weak, no man was more liable to be governed; but,
when conviction had once entered his mind, he became firm and decisive;
equally courageous to combat an acknowledged prejudice or to die for a
new one.

As he was the third prince of his house, he had no likely prospect of
succeeding to the sovereignty. His ambition had never been awakened;
his passions had taken another direction. Contented to find himself
independent of the will of others, he never enforced his own as a law;
his utmost wishes did not soar beyond the peaceful quietude of a private
life, free from care. He read much, but without discrimination. As his
education had been neglected, and, as he had early entered the career of
arms, his understanding had never been fully matured. Hence the
knowledge he afterwards acquired served but to increase the chaos
of his ideas, because it was built on an unstable foundation.

He was a Protestant, as all his family had been, by birth, but not by
investigation, which he had never attempted, although at one period of
his life he had been an enthusiast in its cause. He had never, so far
as came to my knowledge, been a freemason.

One evening we were, as usual, walking by ourselves, well masked in the
square of St. Mark. It was growing late, and the crowd was dispersing,
when the prince observed a mask which followed us everywhere. This mask
was an Armenian, and walked alone. We quickened our steps, and
endeavored to baffle him by repeatedly altering our course. It was in
vain, the mask was always close behind us. "You have had no intrigue
here, I hope," said the prince at last, "the husbands of Venice are
dangerous. " "I do not know a single lady in the place," was my answer.
"Let us sit down here, and speak German," said he; "I fancy we are
mistaken for some other persons. " We sat down upon a stone bench, and
expected the mask would have passed by. He came directly up to us, and
took his seat by the side of the prince. The latter took out his watch,
and, rising at the same time, addressed me thus in a loud voice in
French, "It is past nine. Come, we forget that we are waited for at the
Louvre. " This speech he only invented in order to deceive the mask as
to our route. "Nine! " repeated the latter in the same language, in a
slow and expressive voice, "Congratulate yourself, my prince" (calling
him by his real name); "he died at nine. " In saying this, he rose and
went away.

We looked at each other in amazement. "Who is dead? " said the prince
at length, after a long silence. "Let us follow him," replied I, "and
demand an explanation. " We searched every corner of the place; the mask
was nowhere to be found. We returned to our hotel disappointed. The
prince spoke not a word to me the whole way; he walked apart by himself,
and appeared to be greatly agitated, which he afterwards confessed to me
was the case. Having reached home, he began at length to speak: "Is it
not laughable," said he, "that a madman should have the power thus to
disturb a man's tranquillity by two or three words? " We wished each
other a goodnight; and, as soon as I was in my own apartment, I noted
down in my pocket-book the day and the hour when this adventure
happened. It was on a Thursday.

The next evening the prince said to me, "Suppose we go to the square of
St. Mark, and seek for our mysterious Armenian. I long to see this
comedy unravelled. " I consented. We walked in the square till eleven.
The Armenian was nowhere to be seen. We repeated our walk the four
following evenings, and each time with the same bad success.

On the sixth evening, as we went out of the hotel, it occurred to me,
whether designedly or otherwise I cannot recollect, to tell the servants
where we might be found in case we should be inquired for. The prince
remarked my precaution, and approved of it with a smile. We found the
square of St. Mark very much crowded. Scarcely had we advanced thirty
steps when I perceived the Armenian, who was pressing rapidly through
the crowd, and seemed to be in search of some one. We were just
approaching him, when Baron F-----, one of the prince's retinue, came up
to us quite breathless, and delivered to the prince a letter.
"It is
sealed with black," said he, "and we supposed from this that it might
contain matters of importance. " I was struck as with a thunderbolt.
The prince went near a torch, and began to read. "My cousin is dead! "
exclaimed he. "When? " inquired I anxiously, interrupting him. He
looked again into the letter. "Last Thursday night at nine. "

We had not recovered from our surprise when the Armenian stood before
us. "You are known here, my prince! " said he. "Hasten to your hotel.
You will find there the deputies from the Senate. Do not hesitate to
accept the honor they intend to offer you. Baron I--forgot to tell you
that your remittances are arrived. " He disappeared among the crowd.

We hastened to our hotel, and found everything as the Armenian had told
us. Three noblemen of the republic were waiting to pay their respects
to the prince, and to escort him in state to the Assembly, where the
first nobility of the city were ready to receive him. He had hardly
time enough to give me a hint to sit up for him till his return.

About eleven o'clock at night he returned. On entering the room he
appeared grave and thoughtful. Having dismissed the servants, he took
me by the hand, and said, in the words of Hamlet, "Count -----

"'There are more things in heav'n and earth,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. '"

"Gracious prince! " replied I, "you seem to forget that you are retiring
to your pillow greatly enriched in prospect. " The deceased was the
hereditary prince.

"Do not remind me of it," said the prince; "for should I even have
acquired a crown I am now too much engaged to occupy myself with such a
trifle. If that Armenian has not merely guessed by chance"

"How can that be, my prince? " interrupted I.

"Then will I resign to you all my hopes of royalty in exchange for a
monk's cowl. "

I have mentioned this purposely to show how far every ambitious idea was
then distant from his thoughts.

The following evening we went earlier than usual to the square of St.
Mark. A sudden shower of rain obliged us to take shelter in a
coffee-house, where we found a party engaged at cards. The prince took his
place behind the chair of a Spaniard to observe the game. I went into
an adjacent chamber to read the newspapers. A short time afterwards I
heard a noise in the card-room. Previously to the entrance of the
prince the Spaniard had been constantly losing, but since then he had
won upon every card. The fortune of the game was reversed in a striking
manner, and the bank was in danger of being challenged by the pointeur,
whom this lucky change of fortune had rendered more adventurous. A
Venetian, who kept the bank, told the prince in a very rude manner that
his presence interrupted the fortune of the game, and desired him to
quit the table. The latter looked coldly at him, remained in his place,
and preserved the same countenance, when the Venetian repeated his
insulting demand in French. He thought the prince understood neither
French nor Italian; and, addressing himself with a contemptuous laugh to
the company, said "Pray, gentlemen, tell me how I must make myself
understood to this fool. " At the same time he rose and prepared to
seize the prince by the arm. His patience forsook the latter; he
grasped the Venetian with a strong hand, and threw him violently on the
ground. The company rose up in confusion. Hearing the noise, I hastily
entered the room, and unguardedly called the prince by his name. "Take
care," said I, imprudently; "we are in Venice. " The name of the prince
caused a general silence, which ended in a whispering which appeared to
me to have a dangerous tendency. All the Italians present divided into
parties, and kept aloof. One after the other left the room, so that we
soon found ourselves alone with the Spaniard and a few Frenchmen. "You
are lost, prince," said they, "if you do not leave the city immediately.
The Venetian whom you have handled so roughly is rich enough to hire a
bravo. It costs him but fifty zechins to be revenged by your death. "
The Spaniard offered, for the security of the prince, to go for the
guards, and even to accompany us home himself. The Frenchmen proposed
to do the same. We were still deliberating what to do when the doors
suddenly opened, and some officers of the Inquisition entered the room.
They produced an order of government, which charged us both to follow
them immediately. They conducted us under a strong escort to the canal,
where a gondola was waiting for us, in which we were ordered to embark.
We were blindfolded before we landed. They led us up a large stone
staircase, and through a long, winding passage, over vaults, as I judged
from the echoes that resounded under our feet. At length we came to
another staircase, and, having descended a flight of steps, we entered a
hall, where the bandage was removed from our eyes. We found ourselves
in a circle of venerable old men, all dressed in black; the hall was
hung round with black and dimly lighted. A dead silence reigned in the
assembly, which inspired us with a feeling of awe. One of the old men,
who appeared to be the principal Inquisitor, approached the prince with
a solemn countenance, and said, pointing to the Venetian, who was led
forward:

"Do you recognize this man as the same who offended you at the
coffee-house? "

"I do," answered the prince.

Then addressing the prisoner: "Is this the same person whom you meant to
have assassinated to-night? "

The prisoner replied, "Yes. "

In the same instant the circle opened, and we saw with horror the head
of the Venetian severed from his body.

"Are you content with this satisfaction? " said the Inquisitor. The
prince had fainted in the arms of his attendants. "Go," added the
Inquisitor, turning to me, with a terrible voice, "Go; and in future
judge less hastily of the administration of justice in Venice. "

Who the unknown friend was who had thus saved us from inevitable death,
by interposing in our behalf the active arm of justice, we could not
conjecture. Filled with terror we reached our hotel. It was past
midnight. The chamberlain, Z-------, was waiting anxiously for us at
the door.

"How fortunate it was that you sent us a message," said he to the
prince, as he lighted us up the staircase. "The news which Baron F-----
soon after brought us respecting you from the square of St. Mark would
otherwise have given us the greatest uneasiness. "

"I sent you a message! " said the prince. "When? I know nothing of it. "

"This evening, after eight, you sent us word that we must not be alarmed
if you should come home later to-night than usual. "

The prince looked at me. "Perhaps you have taken this precaution
without mentioning it to me. "

I knew nothing of it.

"It must be so, however," replied the chamberlain, "since here is your
repeating-watch, which you sent me as a mark of authenticity. "

The prince put his hand to his watch-pocket. It was empty, and he
recognized the watch which the chamberlain held as his own.

"Who brought it? " said he, in amazement.

"An unknown mask, in an Armenian dress, who disappeared immediately. "

We stood looking at each other. "What do you think of this? " said the
prince at last, after a long silence. "I have a secret guardian here in
Venice. "

The frightful transaction of this night threw the prince into a fever,
which confined him to his room for a week. During this time our hotel
was crowded with Venetians and strangers, who visited the prince from a
deference to his newly-discovered rank. They vied with each other in
offers of service, and it was not a little entertaining to observe that
the last visitor seldom failed to hint some suspicion derogatory to the
character of the preceding one. Billets-doux and nostrums poured in
upon us from all quarters. Every one endeavored to recommend himself in
his own way. Our adventure with the Inquisition was no more mentioned.
The court of --------, wishing the prince to delay his departure from
Venice for some time, orders were sent to several bankers to pay him
considerable sums of money. He was thus, against his will, compelled to
protract his residence in Italy; and at his request I also resolved to
postpone my departure for some time longer.

As soon as the prince had recovered strength enough to quit his chamber
he was advised by his physician to take an airing in a gondola upon the
Brenta, for the benefit of the air, to which, as the weather was serene,
he readily consented. Just as the prince was about to step into the
boat he missed the key of a little chest in which some very valuable
papers were enclosed. . We immediately turned back to search for it. He
very distinctly remembered that he had locked the chest the day before,
and he had never left the room in the interval. As our endeavors to
find it proved ineffectual, we were obliged to relinquish the search in
order to avoid being too late. The prince, whose soul was above
suspicion, gave up the key as lost, and desired that it might not be
mentioned any more.

Our little voyage was exceedingly delightful. A picturesque country,
which at every winding of the river seemed to increase in richness and
beauty; the serenity of the sky, which formed a May day in the middle of
February; the charming gardens and elegant countryseats which adorned
the banks of the Brenta; the maestic city of Venice behind us, with its
lofty spires, and a forest of masts, rising as it were out of the waves;
all this afforded us one of the most splendid prospects in the world.
We wholly abandoned ourselves to the enchantment of Nature's luxuriant
scenery; our minds shared the hilarity of the day; even the prince
himself lost his wonted gravity, and vied with us in merry jests
and diversions. On landing about two Italian miles from the city we
heard the sound of sprightly music; it came from a small village at a
little distance from the Brenta, where there was at that time a fair.
The place was crowded with company of every description. A troop of
young girls and boys, dressed in theatrical habits, welcomed us in a
pantomimical dance. The invention was novel; animation and grace
attended their every movement. Before the dance was quite concluded
the principal actress, who represented a queen, stopped suddenly,
as if arrested by an invisible arm. Herself and those around her were
motionless. The music ceased. The assembly was silent. Not a breath
was to be heard, and the queen stood with her eyes fixed on the ground
in deep abstraction. On a sudden she started from her reverie with the
fury of one inspired, and looked wildly around her. "A king is among
us," she exclaimed, taking her crown from her head, and laying it at the
feet of the prince. Every one present cast their eyes upon him, and
doubted for some time whether there was any meaning in this farce; so
much were they deceived by the impressive seriousness of the actress.
This silence was at length broken by a general clapping of hands, as a
mark of approbation. I looked at the prince. I noticed that he
appeared not a little disconcerted, and endeavored to escape the
inquisitive glances of the spectators. He threw money to the players,
and hastened to extricate himself from the crowd.

We had advanced but a few steps when a venerable barefooted friar,
pressing through the crowd, placed himself in the prince's path. "My
lord," said he, "give the holy Virgin part of your gold. You will want
her prayers. " He uttered these words in a tone of voice which startled
us extremely, and then disappeared in the throng.

In the meantime our company had increased. An English lord, whom the
prince had seen before at Nice, some merchants of Leghorn, a German
prebendary, a French abbe with some ladies, and a Russian officer,
attached themselves to our party. The physiognomy of the latter had
something so uncommon as to attract our particular attention. Never in
my life did I see such various features and so little expression; so
much attractive benevolence and such forbidding coldness in the same
face. Each passion seemed by turns to have exercised its ravages on it,
and to have successively abandoned it. Nothing remained but the calm,
piercing look of a person deeply skilled in the knowledge of mankind;
but it was a look that abashed every one on whom it was directed. This
extraordinary man followed us at a distance, and seemed apparently to
take but little interest in what was passing.

We came to a booth where there was a lottery. The ladies bought shares.
We followed their example, and the prince himself purchased a ticket.
He won a snuffbox. As he opened it I saw him turn pale and start back.
It contained his lost key.

"How is this? " said he to me, as we were left for a moment alone.
"A superior power attends me, omniscience surrounds me. An invisible
being, whom I cannot escape, watches over my steps. I must seek for the
Armenian, and obtain an explanation from him. "

The sun was setting when we arrived at the pleasurehouse, where a supper
had been prepared for us. The prince's name had augmented our company
to sixteen. Besides the above-mentioned persons there was a virtuoso
from Rome, several Swiss gentlemen, and an adventurer from Palermo in
regimentals, who gave himself out for a captain. We resolved to spend
the evening where we were, and to return home by torchlight. The
conversation at table was lively. The prince could not forbear relating
his adventure of the key, which excited general astonishment. A warm
dispute on the subject presently took place. Most of the company
positively maintained that the pretended occult sciences were nothing
better than juggling tricks. The French abbe, who had drank rather too
much wine, challenged the whole tribe of ghosts, the English lord
uttered blasphemies, and the musician made a cross to exorcise the
devil. Some few of the company, amongst whom was the prince, contended
that opinions respecting such matters ought to be kept to oneself. In
the meantime the Russian officer discoursed with the ladies, and did not
seem to pay attention to any part of conversation. In the heat of the
dispute no one observed that the Sicilian had left the room. In less
than half an hour he returned wrapped in a cloak, and placed himself
behind the chair of the Frenchman. "A few moments ago," said he, "you
had the temerity to challenge the whole tribe of ghosts. Would you wish
to make a trial with one of them? "

"I will," answered the abbe, "if you will take upon yourself to
introduce one. "

"That I am ready to do," replied the Sicilian, turning to us, "as soon
as these ladies and gentlemen have left us. "

"Why only then? " exclaimed the Englishman. "A courageous ghost will
surely not be afraid of a cheerful company. "

"I would not answer for the consequences," said the Sicilian.

"For heaven's sake, no! " cried the ladies, starting affrighted from
their chairs.

"Call your ghost," said the abbe, in a tone of defiance, "but warn him
beforehand that there are sharp-pointed weapons here. " At the same time
he asked one of the company for a sword.

"If you preserve the same intention in his presence," answered the
Sicilian, coolly, "you may then act as you please. " He then turned
towards the prince: "Your highness," said he, "asserts that your key has
been in the hands of a stranger; can you conjecture in whose? "

"No"

"Have you no suspicion? "

"It certainly occurred to me that"--

"Should you know the person if you saw him? "

"Undoubtedly. "

The Sicilian, throwing back his cloak, took out a looking-glass and held
it before the prince. "Is this the man? "

The prince drew back with affright.

"Whom have you seen? " I inquired.

"The Armenian. "

The Sicilian concealed his looking-glass under his cloak.

"Is it the person whom you thought of? " demanded the whole company.

"The same. "

A sudden change manifested itself on every face; no more laughter was to
be heard. All eyes were fixed with curiosity on the Sicilian.

"Monsieur l'Abbe! The matter grows serious," said the Englishman.
"I advise you to think of beating a retreat. "

"The fellow is in league with the devil," exclaimed the Frenchman, and
rushed out of the house. The ladies ran shrieking from the room. The
virtuoso followed them.